


Kickstart

by tattooed_lies



Category: Mötley Crüe
Genre: Alcohol, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24020935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooed_lies/pseuds/tattooed_lies
Summary: Nikki and Vince get together during the making of Dr Feelgood.
Relationships: Nikki Sixx/Vince Neil
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	1. Give it a start

“Be quiet,” Nikki shushes. He puts his hand over Vince’s mouth and listens for signs that someone else just walked into the bathrooms. His heart skips a beat as sudden fear overwhelms everything else.

Vince’s tongue tickles his palm. Nikki looks at him. Vince’s eyes have a glint of amusement. That fucking asshole never gives a fuck about anything; Nikki can’t believe he fell for this shit, this fucking _tease_ bullshit, when they’re in the middle of recording.

Okay, yeah, he’s really pleased with how well everything’s going, that Vince is actually enjoying himself in the studio, that none of them are fighting, or passing out, or MIA. That they’re all _talking_ , about important stuff. About what they want and how to get it.

And, possibly, _who_ they want.

At least, that’s what could be happening with him and Vince. Who’s waiting for him right now, to make a move. It’s quiet outside of the bathroom stall, so Nikki feels the anxiety dissipate. The walls are floor-to-ceiling; still, this isn’t ideal, not here, and they shouldn’t be doing this again.

Just thinking about what happened a couple of days ago, though, right in this stall, makes him decide to disregard his misgivings and just go for it. So he takes his hand away and kisses Vince hard, and he’s greeted by an eager tongue and another insanely hot, but annoyingly loud moan.

“Shut _up_ ,” Nikki grits out, and he moves to bite the tendon in Vince’s neck.

Vince puts his hand on Nikki’s arm and squeezes. He’s just standing there and taking it - see, he is a master manipulator, he’s probably just getting what he wants. Nikki almost admires him for it. Almost, because it’s kind of a dick move, and also because his brain is a little depleted at the moment. At least Vince isn’t moaning anymore, just breathing harshly.

Nikki’s hand moves swiftly to Vince’s jeans, and the force with which he tugs them open would have ripped them, if the button and zipper weren’t so well worn and smooth. Nikki leans back and has a look at what he’s grabbing hold of. He’s seen it before, over the years, but it’s _for him_ now. And the thought still makes him feel amazed - weak in the knees, a fluttering in his stomach.

Vince tilts his hips, getting Nikki to move his fist, and Nikki looks up while his hand starts working, and watches as Vince’s eyes close and his mouth falls open. He can admit it - what that look does to him, has done to him all this time. How it made him angry, pick fights; when he likely wanted to do the opposite.

~

Their late-night talk four days back had unleashed everything. It had been amazing to be able to sit and exchange thoughts with Vince, sober, calm, clear on their common goal - which was to make an awesome record and show everyone they could succeed. After talking at length about other things, the conversation had turned to the darkest time in their mutual history. And Nikki had learned how his overdose had affected Vince.

“You know, Sixx, if you tell anyone this, I’ll deny it. But the idea of not seeing you again… that was more than I could handle,” Vince had said, very softly. “It broke me right then.”

“Really,” Nikki had said - pleased, but not quite ready to show it. “I thought you’d be relieved to be rid of my ass,” he’d joked, creating some levity.

“Well. I guess not. Though all the drama was a bit much,” Vince had mumbled, giving him a sideways glance.

Nikki had chuckled and punched him in the arm. Which of course, Vince couldn’t just let go - so he’d given Nikki a shove. It had escalated, much like it always used to, and though it had started playful, old and new ways had interweaved, and before they’d realized what had happened, Vince had pinned Nikki down on the couch, arm over his throat, face close to Nikki’s.

Nikki had looked at him, wondering. Vince had staggered back, brushing his hands through his hair. “Uh…,” he had started, maybe about to make an excuse, but he’d never finished. He’d just left.

But Nikki had known. Had seen his own feelings reflected in Vince’s face, and had known that it was the beginning of something…

…That lead to hand jobs in the bathroom stall a few days ago.

~

It’s not all roses and rainbows, as they’re standing here, one holding the other’s cock and the other cursing and panting; it’s only happening right now because Vince started teasing him this afternoon, about 10 minutes into recording, and Nikki was unable to keep his eyes off Vince in his tank top and snug jeans - suggestively touching himself _the whole time_ , knowing that Nikki was watching him. Ruining their perfect streak of recording without any fucking rockstar incidents, because their producer kicked Nikki out and told him to ‘ _find his focus_ ’. Which is why Nikki dragged Vince into the bathroom.

“You’re always such a fucking asshole,” Nikki bites Vince’s earlobe and squeezes on the upstroke.

“You love it,” Vince smirks and then groans, his hand squeezing Nikki’s arm in the same rhythm Nikki uses.

He’s kind of right. But Nikki’s not going to tell him that _now_. He pushes the bridge of his nose against Vince’s neck, inhaling his scent - soap, cologne, traces of leather, and the familiar smell of _Vince_ \- and he’s out of his head turned on by it. He thrusts his hips forward, against his own hand and against Vince’s cock.

Vince flinches and Nikki pulls back. But he feels something tug inside; he wants to move forward, see what will happen, what Vince will let him do.

“Off.” Vince lets go of Nikki’s arm and tugs on Nikki’s jeans.

“Yeah, okay,” Nikki murmurs and tries to help.

~

Hindsight is 20/20. Nikki hates the cliché, but yeah. Maybe he always enjoyed all the drunken closeness, the playing it up for entertainment value, a little more than he admitted to himself. Or, alternatively, maybe that’s why Vince always got under his skin and made him furious. One could clarify a lot of 80s issues by looking at them through these fresh 1989 glasses. If one were so inclined.

So a few days ago, while Nikki had been pondering how to carefully proceed exploring this thing between them, Vince had ambushed him in the hallway near the bathrooms, and had pushed him inside and into the stall.

Nikki, a little flummoxed, had been a tad slow to register Vince’s mouth on his. And then, couldn’t get over the fact that Vince’s mouth was on his.

Vince had grunted, put his hand on Nikki’s cheek, angling his face, and licked the seam of his lips. And Nikki had surged, blocking Vince against the back wall and kissing him back, tongue exploring, tasting, claiming.

Vince had sighed, or gasped - a satisfying sound. Nikki had wanted more of it, had felt an overwhelming desire to _have_ , and had shoved Vince’s arms above his head. Vince had hummed happily, pushing his hips forward.

~

Much like a few days ago, Nikki’s pants are now opened too, and Vince eagerly reaches in. Nikki moves forward into Vince’s grip and wonders how he was ever able to think of anything else, every other time they were this close to each other.

Vince makes another sound, which Nikki mistakenly identifies as a hum of ‘ _Yes, nice, continue_ ’. So that when Vince nudges him back, he frowns and is nearly taking over already - about to pin Vince against the wall with his body.

“Fuck, wait,” Vince says, and he looks so flushed and fuckable that Nikki just stares at him for a moment. Vince pushes down his own jeans further, and turns around.

Nikki looks down at the ass Vince tilts towards him. He puts his hands on it, rubbing the skin, briefly mesmerized, especially seeing his dick right in front of it.

Vince leans his forearm against the wall, pushes his head against it. His other hand reaches back for Nikki’s hip and squeezes.

Nikki notices something and uses his thumbs to spread Vince’s cheeks apart. Vince moans, pushing his ass back further. “Fuck,” Nikki says, or moans, and brushes his finger over the already slicked opening.

Vince’s legs tremble. “Do it,” he says, soft but firm.

Nikki pushes his finger in, watching it disappear easily, though tightness hugs around it. Vince makes another noise, and Nikki moves his finger in and out slowly, just a few times, just to hear those noises and to stretch this insane moment, even if his every cell is screaming for him to replace his finger with something else _immediately_.

“Are you sure?” Nikki asks, though there is no way he’s not fucking him at this point.

“You have your finger up my ass,” Vince says, impatient, pushing back and pulling at Nikki’s hip once, before letting it go.

Nikki adds another finger and curves them down. Vince’s knees buckle and he swears against the wall. Nikki’s forehead falls against Vince’s shoulder. He’s already pushing against Vince, hips rolling, he only has to take that one final step and he’s collecting himself for it.

“Come on,” Vince groans.

Nikki takes out his fingers, eliciting another sweet sound. He slicks his cock with some spit, then lines it up. He puts his other hand on Vince’s hip, gripping tight, and Vince holds perfectly still. And Nikki pushes in all the way.

He waits. He listens to Vince breathe - harsh and fast. Nikki’s probably still gripping him too hard, but he doesn’t care, he needs it right now. Because fuck, it feels so good and it’s unbelievable that this is happening.

Of course Vince, being Vince, has to voice his disagreement and tells Nikki to _fucking_ move _already_. And he does. It’s fast, short strokes and it’s going to be quick. His other hand moves around Vince to find Vince’s own hand already around his cock; Nikki grunts and takes it over, biting into the fleshy part of Vince’s shoulder.

Vince braces both hands against the wall, head falling forward and giving Nikki all control. And from there, it’s only moments left, Nikki stroking Vince rough and fast to bring him over the edge with him.

~

Nikki wants to drink. He’s in his hotel room, restless, worrying, annoyed. And he can’t fucking drink. He grabs his hair and he pulls. He shouts. He falls down face forward onto his bed, like a child, and buries his face into the pillow.

This is bad.

If this is just _this_ , it’s gonna fuck up everything. He’s not going to make it. It’s all he can think about, but he doesn’t know what it is, not really. He feels this huge pull - which has always been there, honestly, but there’s an added context now. He wants nothing more than to explore this further, feels his nerve endings tingle with excitement every time he thinks of Vince.

It seems like Vince is right there with him, isn’t just doing it out of boredom, but… What if he’s wrong. They’ve never been sober together this long. Is it just a substitution thing? Though, if it’s just sex, girls are easily available, and a lot less complicated. And what’s going to happen when they go on tour? They will need each other, and if it starts out strained…

There’s a knock on the door. 

“Go away,” he says into the pillow. But it’s possible that it’s inaudible.

“Nik, open up.”

Nikki raises his head. “Vince?”

“Let me in.”

Nikki gets up and opens the door. Vince stands in front of him, smiling almost shyly. Or it’s just one of his tricks. A thing he does with girls. He’s seen this, the efforts to avoid conflict - through strategic attentiveness and ‘ _aw, baby, c’mon_ ’ kisses and cuddles - but still doing as you please all the rest of the time.

Nikki steps aside to let him in. Vince stays close to him, which Nikki kind of likes. He closes the door and faces Vince. “Hi,” he says, lamely.

“You disappeared,” Vince says, softly. “I thought we… would talk, at least.” He scratches his cheek and averts his gaze.

Vince looks so vulnerable; Nikki is a little taken aback. But then he thinks about today’s events from Vince’s perspective. He came prepared. He’d thought about it and wanted it to happen. Then he’d disguised himself with a layer of cockiness, and it had worked - he’d fooled Nikki. 

“I’m sorry,” Nikki says. He steps closer, but it feels too forward to reach out and touch Vince. Which is ridiculous, isn’t it? His arm comes up, hangs mid-air, and he drops it.

“A bottle of Jack would come in handy right about now,” Vince jokes. He taps his finger against Nikki’s chest and carefully looks up.

It breaks the tension and gives Nikki confidence. He cups Vince’s cheek and looks at him. Vince moves closer, so that they’re toe-to-toe.

“Yes, let’s talk,” Nikki nods, and kisses him.


	2. Hope it never stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince has feelings and drinks. Nikki finds him.

It’s been amazing with Nikki, especially compared to Vince’s other relationship experiences. Not flawless, not without fighting, but that’s just them; they’re a couple of bastards who are used to getting their own way, so that’s part of the deal. Sometimes, when it gets particularly heated, they give each other space to cool off - but not too much space. The arguments themselves are inconsequential, so there comes a point where one of them, usually Vince, reaches out, or just plain jumps the other one, and everything is good.

Most of the time, it works. Because Nikki is a control freak, and Vince can appreciate giving up control just fine - in specific circumstances. They haven’t talked about that, explicitly, but they don’t have to; he can tell Nikki understands, when they’re performing and the roles are reversed. Vince likes to own the stage, and own Nikki, directing him to-and-fro and pulling his hair every so often. And Nikki lets him, happy as a puppy. It has nothing to do with hashing out frustrations, or payback, it’s simply how they are.

But, no matter the roles they have in certain settings, that doesn’t mean anyone else can take part. Doesn’t mean it’s okay if anyone else tries to - literally - pick Vince up. So after the show in Philly, when the guys from Skid Row had come on stage for the encore, and Sebastian had nearly done just that, Vince had known Nikki would react in some way. And he had, when they got to the hotel room. Pretty much the hottest fuck ever; though they’re all kind of awesome.

With everything going on - going to Russia, breaking with Doc, having a no. 1 album and a huge tour, all the interviews and other promotional activities - it’s been so good to have Nikki there to experience it all with him. To celebrate the highs, and to support each other when things get crazy, when they get agitated or tired, and they want to drink, or worse. They do a lot of screwing, sure, but there’s also so much comfort in just being together, touching or holding, and talking or not talking. Not doing _anything_.

Something is different tonight, though. They’re at an awards show after-party, just him and Nikki, and Nikki had been a little distracted on the way over. Nervous, maybe. Vince had tried to be comforting - upbeat, cheerful - and fool them both into thinking that it was gonna be great. But now, Vince doesn’t know where Nikki is. Someone had pulled him away, minutes after they’d arrived, and Vince hasn’t seen him since. And he feels out of place. It’s the weirdest thing, he was always good at crowds, and now, his skin itches and he doesn’t know what to do with himself, without Nikki by his side.

Without a drink in his hand.

People come up to him, make small talk, and he responds politely; but inside he’s panicking. He gets pulled over for an interview. His brain switches to automatic and he does the spiel about the album, the enormous tour and show. But then she asks him about what it’s like to be at a party, sober. And he does his biggest acting job _ever_.

“It’s different,” he says, giving her a grin. “But I’m getting used to it.”

“Well, you look _great_ ,” she says and briefly squeezes his arm.

She gives him a look that means that if he’s interested, she’s up for it. But he smiles and thanks her, and finds a subtle way to exit.

It’s been _hours_ , or it feels like it, but he finally spots Nikki. He’s talking to some girls and he seems… fine. Like he’s enjoying it. Vince debates going over there, but then decides against it. He’s not gonna be the guy who has to be glued to his partner - especially when they are apparently happily soaking up attention from people other than him. People who are girls.

He feels strange, his throat constricting. He needs something _now_. And hey, there is a tray of champagne, moving by on the arm of a pretty girl. Vince smoothly swipes a few flutes and walks off.

~

Things are blurry. Fuck, he fucked up. Fuck alcohol. Fuck the open bar. Fuck Nikki, for being a fucking adjusted normal person while Vince has to fucking drink. And now, Nikki’s gonna fucking leave him, because he’s weak and _not_ -adjusted. Fuck, he’s right, Vince is a fucking loser, Nikki can obviously do better.

Vince doesn’t really notice what’s going on around him, or how much time has passed. Some people talk to him; he’s playing it safe and is just nodding, smiling, making quick excuses and moving to some other corner after another shot of whiskey. He doesn’t think he’s fooling anyone, he knows what he looks like loaded. But at least there aren’t any bright lights here. Although he really doesn’t have a fucking clue where ‘here’ is.

“Vince,” Nikki says.

Vince doesn’t know where Nikki came from, or if he’s been watching, but Nikki’s tone startles him - he feels immediately guilty, like a dog getting called out.

“You ditched me,” he says, defensively. It sounds a bit slurred, even to his own ears. He pokes Nikki in the chest, or at least he thinks he does, Nikki’s kind of like a fluid thing, and Vince can’t see very well with this lighting.

Nikki grabs him by the back of the neck and steers him in some direction. Vince has so little coordinating capability that he only _just_ manages to put one leg in front of the other. He senses that Nikki is angry, but still, the hand on his neck feels good, it anchors him.

They end up outside, the fresh air feels nice on Vince’s skin. Nikki leans him up against a wall. Vince looks up at him - that has to be a look of disappointment there on Nikki’s face. He quickly looks down again. He can sort of make out Nikki’s boots; he wants to bump them with the nose of his own boot. But he doesn’t. Why isn’t Nikki talking? Is he that angry, is he going to say something really bad and is that why Vince has to wait for it? His eyes get more blurry and moist. Ugh, now he’s going to cry. A single drop lands on Nikki’s boot, but then he manages to rein it in.

“Hey,” Nikki pushes Vince’s chin up with his finger and he looks him in the eye.

That touch and that look, somehow feel very significant, and Vince starts thinking about the end - memorizing final touches and talks and scents, and he’s already missing Nikki, and it kills him. He goes for the Hail Mary and throws himself against Nikki, arms tight around his torso, cheek against his collarbone.

Nikki’s arms don’t immediately hug back; to Vince it seems to take an eternity, and he thinks that if it’s over, maybe he should just bolt. But he doesn’t want to let go, can’t make himself do it, and so he waits.

Nikki cups the back of Vince’s head and puts his other palm flat on his back. Vince exhales. There’s a tremble in there.

“Come on,” Nikki says, directing Vince again, moving them over to a bench seat. Nikki pulls Vince gently as he sits down, and Vince reluctantly loosens his grip to be able to straddle Nikki’s lap and tuck his arms against Nikki’s chest, pushing his face against Nikki’s neck. This is his spot and he’ll have to be forcibly removed. It would have been an amusing thought any other night, but now, it’s survival. When Nikki starts to speak, he’ll probably dissolve. But at least he’ll be on Nikki’s lap.

Nikki wraps his arms around Vince as before, holding him close. “It’s okay,” he says, softly.

Vince squeezes his eyes shut. If he breathes too deep, he’s going to sob. He doesn’t want to start actually _crying_ , for fuck’s sake. So he keeps his breaths shallow. His fingers claw at Nikki’s chest.

“It’s okay,” Nikki repeats, brushing his fingers over Vince’s back in tiny circles. “We’re okay.”

Vince can tell he’s close to hyperventilating, so he focuses on the warm touches, the motion of Nikki’s fingers and the grip Nikki has on his hair. He tries to follow Nikki’s breathing, and it helps calm him down.

“I’m sorry,” he says, when he feels more steady. But saying it almost makes him upset again.

“Me too,” Nikki says, without heat.

Vince isn’t sure what that means. He thinks it means Nikki will shout at him tomorrow, for being so irresponsible and throwing away his sobriety. Well, he deserves it. 

They sit there awhile, and Vince wants to stay forever, afraid of what might come next. Every time Nikki’s hand stops moving, Vince shifts a little, and Nikki continues his rubs. Vince starts to feel a little better, at least here and now. 

“Let’s go home.” Nikki says, eventually, and nudges him.

It had to happen at some point. Vince reluctantly gets up.

~

Vince awakes. His head hurts. His heart throbs in his ear. His mouth is dry. Oh god, what did he do last night? It slowly comes back, patchy. He completely overreacted. He got wasted. Fuck, Nikki’s gonna kill him. And suddenly, there is this tightness again, in his chest. Nikki might leave him.

Then he registers there is an arm around him. A body behind him - Nikki. Nikki is here, where he’s supposed to be, because this is how they sleep - cuddled up. That’s what Vince wants and Nikki indulges. And that he’s here, doing just that, it has to mean something. Right?

“You awake?” Nikki murmurs against the back of his neck.

Vince’s head falls forward, a reflex from feeling Nikki’s lips and breath against his skin. He forgets his aches for a moment because his senses overload on Nikki, as he squeezes his arm around Vince and his warm chest smoothes out the stiff muscles in Vince’s back. Vince can’t bring himself to respond verbally just yet. But he doesn’t need to.

“You should’ve come to me,” Nikki says, not angry or frustrated, simply matter of fact.

Vince nods, though he’s not sure if Nikki notices.

“I never would have left you… I didn’t want to… y’know, be a drag. You always loved these things.” Nikki sounds a little insecure now.

Vince’s throat is too tight to speak. So he puts his hand on Nikki’s, and pulls it up to kiss it and keep it against his face.

Nikki places a kiss on the back of Vince’s neck. “Don’t worry about last night. That’s done. Now we know what _not_ to do,” he says. Vince feels Nikki’s lips curve in a smile. “And I don’t want you to feel that way again, but you were kind of adorable.”

‘ _I’m always adorable_ ,’ Vince almost says, just because it’s automatic. But he doesn’t feel it yet. Instead, he pulls Nikki’s arm closer and pushes back against him.

Nikki hums.


End file.
